Starter List: Ten Best Seattle Books of This Century

The New York Times Book Review recently issued its list of the “100 best books of the 21^st Century.”  The blockbuster list was selected by 503 novelists and non-fiction writers, helped by the Times’ own critics. The idea was to mark the first 25 years of the century by determining the most significant books — so far.

The Times’ list was followed by another 100 Best: books suggested by Times’ readers. Their list agreed with some choices but added other favorites. This exercise prompted me to want to document the “100 best Seattle Books” of the 21^st Century.”

Deciding on such a list is a formidable task in a region as literate as this one. It calls for a team effort. I am willing to start by picking 10 favorites. Other readers will disagree, but I hope they’ll be inspired to submit their own best books. The only rules are: the book was written by a Seattle-area author and was published in the last 25 years. Here are my top 10 favorites with a brief description: 

Too High & Too Steep, by David B. Williams. Over the years, Seattle has reshaped itself, digging up, digging into and dumping on its original landscape, eliminating hills, cutting canals, killing rivers, replumbing lakes and reshaping land masses. The original settlers would barely recognize the place it is today. Williams, a natural history writer, uses his scientific background and extensive research to describe Seattle’s many physical changes. 

Chief Seattle and the Town That Took His Name, by David M. Buerge. Why did the settlers name the town for him? Because, according to historian and teacher David Buerge, they owed their lives to Chief Seattle, leader of both the Suquamish and Duwamish tribes. He helped the newcomers survive during their first lean winter (1852-52) and alerted them to the 1859 Indian attack. The chief has been described as tall, lean, and immensely strong. He was known to have a temper and confessed that, yes, he had killed, saying that was “what was leaders did.” One contemporary said, “When Seattle spoke, it was the other person who shook.”

Short Nights of the Shadow Catcher: The Epic Life and Immortal Photos of Edward Curtis, by Timothy Egan. Pulitzer prize-winning reporter Timothy Egan writes about Edward Curtis, who began his career in 1896 by photographing Chief Seattle’s daughter, Princess Angeline. Curtis documented the lives of Native Americans who called him the “shadow catcher.” He eventually amassed 40,000 photographs, recorded 10,000 songs, and captured the vocabulary of 75 Native American languages. In the course of his life’s work, the “charming rogue” managed to destroy his marriage and finances, dying penniless but hardly forgotten.

Heavier Than Heaven, by Charles Cross. It was a toss-up for me between choosing Charles Cross’s biography of Kurt Cobain or the author’s equally heroic book, A Roomful of Mirrors, the story of Seattle’s own Jimi Hendrix. Luckily I couldn’t miss either way. In this well-researched account, Cross follows Kurt Cobain from his early years, growing up in a double-wide trailer outside Aberdeen, through his rise to fame, success, and the adulation of a generation. Kurt lived a short, angry and inspired life, cut short by suicide in April, 1994.

Skid Road: On the Frontier of Health and Homelessness in an American City, by Josephine Ensign. University of Washington Professor of Nursing Josephine Ensign opens her overview of Seattle homelessness by introducing us to Edward Moore, the city’s first homeless man. She delves into the historic roots of poverty, traveling from the 1850s to today. She tracks life stories of the poor and voiceless and unearths quixotic tales like the one about Dr. Alexander De Soto and his floating waterfront mission. 

The Boys in the Boat, by Daniel James Brown. If you want inspiration, you could do no better than Daniel Brown’s enthralling story of the University of Washington rowing team that beat the odds and found hope in desperate times. His book focuses on the nine likeable working-class boys who used true grit to upstage Hitler at the 1936 Olympics. Brown leaves the reader with white knuckles and even a few tears.

Father and Son, by Jonathan Raban. Three days before his 69^th birthday, Jonathan Raban suffered a massive stroke. The acclaimed British author who had relocated to Seattle interweaves his struggles to overcome the new limitations of his body with his father’s World War II battle experiences in France, Belgium, North Africa, and on the bloody beaches of Anzio. Raban delivers a compelling memoir of love, trauma, and recovery. It’s an unforgettable story of two men, both intent on finding their way home.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford. Jamie Ford’s debut novel tells the tale of two pre-teens, Chinese American Henry Lee and Japanese American Keiko Okabe, who lived on opposite sides of the Chinatown International District prior to World War II. As the story progresses, Henry falls for Keiko just as she and her family are sent off to incarceration camp at Minidoka. Ford’s novel is a masterpiece that evokes the power of forgiveness and speaks to the human heart. 

So You Want to Talk About Race, by Ijeoma Oluo. Oluo’s book on navigating race was published in 2018 at a time when many could no longer ignore the fact that this nation is deeply, systemically racist. Her approach is conversational, breaking down academic language like “intersectionality” and inviting everyone into the discussion. Each chapter begins with a provocative question with no set answer, serving as a beginning point for deeper discussion. Oluo tackles issues from hair politics to the school-to-prison pipeline. It’s a welcome textbook for the times.

Where’d You Go, Bernadette? By Maria Semple. Bernadette Fox is a California transplant, brought reluctantly to Seattle by her Microsoft guru husband Elgin. She deals with runaway blackberry bushes and an ever-dripping house until one day she mysteriously vanishes, leaving daughter Bee to seek her mom’s return. Semple’s novel is a deliciously funny adventure, poking fun at both Microsoft privilege and Seattle’s chard-growing natives.